Page 51 of Little Bitter Truths
“If by interrogation you mean I’m trying to accuse you of something, I’m not.I’m just trying to cover all the angles.”
And I meant it, for the most part.
“The investigation has taken a turn,” I said.“And there’s something you should know.”
“What is it?”
“I believe Wren wasn’t the killer’s intended target.”
Her brow furrowed.“I don’t understand.”
“I’m still trying to figure things out,” I said.“But I suspect Wren died because someone mistook her for Mia.”
20
Renee’s expression was one of shock and disbelief.
“I don’t understand,” she said.“How could that even happen?”
“The more I investigate this case, the more I feel like certain things don’t add up if Wren was the intended target,” I said.
“Like what?”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.“For starters, there was no forced entry.Mia also kept a hidden key in the front yard, and it seems the killer knew where to find it.Wren was shot once, and there were no signs of a struggle.That tells me the killer wasn’t there to argue or scare her or to rob the place.They were there with a purpose, which suggests premeditation.”
Renee shook her head.“I … I don’t know what to say.”
I did, so I kept on going.
“The coroner suspects Wren may have been moved after she was shot,” I said.“Lifted, even if only for a moment, and then set back down.”
“Why would anyone do that?”
“To look at her.To confirm who they had just killed.You said yourself Wren and Mia were close growing up.They looked alike and had the same build and similar features.If someone expected to find Mia in that house, it makes sense they would have thought they had.Mia has a birthmark below her left ear.Wren didn’t.”
“Mia’s birthmark.I’d forgotten all about it.But you’re right.If what you’re saying is true, Mia shouldn’t be alone in that house.”
“The police are keeping an eye on her.”
She pressed a hand to her chest and sighed.“What a relief.”
Before I could say anything more, the front door opened, and high-pitched voices entered the house, yelling, “Mommy!Mommy!We’re home!”
Two young girls burst into the room, their backpacks bouncing against their shoulders as they ran toward Renee, wrapping their arms around her waist.
“Hey, you two,” she said, brushing the hair from their faces.“How was school today?”
“Good,” one of them said.
“We had snack twice in my class,” the other said.
A man stepped into the room behind them, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a navy polo and slacks.
“I’m sorry,” he said, glancing at me.“I didn’t know you had company, or I wouldn’t have let them ambush your conversation.”
“It’s fine,” Renee said.“Bryan, this is Georgiana.She’s a private investigator working on Wren’s ...”
Her gaze drifted to the children before returning to Bryan, as though asking him to put words to the thoughts she was unable to voice.
